


Hellions on Parade

by demonomania (Demonomania)



Category: Dishonored (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Gen, High Chaos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 12:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1388416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demonomania/pseuds/demonomania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her city is broken and she is the only one who is worthy enough of picking up the pieces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hellions on Parade

She cleared her throat, rising from her desk to pace around the room. Her arms were locked tightly over her chest as she finally spoke.

“The night has come swiftly. My militia arms itself as the moon rises and the nobility slumbers. What will they think of us now? What will they think of _me_ now?”

She laughed.

“Catherine James. Nursemaid, peasant – Empress.”

The audiograph card whittled away in the recorder – the only sound aside from her boots thumping on the wooden floor and her tired voice.

“Or would they refer to me as Jessamine, then? Burdened by the weight of my heel on their backs, would they forget all that I have done and grovel? Would they call me Jessamine ‘the _Kind?’_ Would they beg for forgiveness?”

She stopped now, tilting her head to the side, deep in thought.

“Maybe I was _too_ kind. Too trusting. Things are different now. My daughter is dead and there is no one worthy enough to pick up the pieces except for me.”

A shadow darted across the room.

“They thought they had seen the last of me, buried in the ground, flowers and tears. They thought that they could trample on my tomb and reclaim this city. But what is it now? _Plague infested._ A graveyard.”

She was well aware of her new guest.

“So much death… And yet more bodies must fall before we can truly fix the mistakes of our past. But what am I? An abomination of the Void? A ghost? Or just a mad woman with a big dream.”

The Abbey had destroyed Dunwall.

While the Rat Plague still ran rampant, the Abbey of the Everyman had chosen to simply stand back and let the city decay. Quarantines and deportation aside, curfews were earlier than ever and not only did citizens have to deal with the skyrocketing price of elixir, but they also had to worry about attending mandatory service during designated times of the day, lest their ration cards be stripped from them.

She refused to sit and watch her city run itself into the ground.

Jessamine knew there was no way she could do it on her own.

Sure, she had lost her title as Empress but she had not lost her political charisma. She knew how to sway a crowd – and sway a crowd she did.

She had heard the whispers on the streets; the disdain for the Abbey and for everything that they had done to keep the city ‘pure’. Even the most devout of followers had begun to turn their noses up at the sound of the Overseer’s sermons. Jessamine gathered these people like dolls – pawns, even. She knew she could use them to her advantage.

What started from small meetings by dim lamp light had turned into assemblies of protestors and activists. They wanted change. They wanted to return Dunwall to its former glory. _Long live the Empress,_ they had chanted. Oh, if only they knew. What exactly had drawn them to her? Was it her similarity to the late Jessamine Kaldwin? Was it her articulate words and strong voice? Was it the fact that _she_ was willing to risk her life to over throw their oppressors? Jessamine had avoided death once and she was wholly prepared to do it again.

The Overseers could only cast a blind eye upon their gatherings for so long. However, the large crowds that congregated at Jessamine’s stoop swallowed them like the sea.

It was then, that the Tide was born.

If it had not already, anarchy descended upon the city.

Looting, organized attacks and riots sprung up daily.

And all Jessamine could do was watch.

While she had made herself a great deal of new enemies, Jessamine had also acquired quite a handful of allies.

One of which was none other than her old friend, Anton Sokolov.

He had meandered into her office one night, having weathered the rolling storm outside on foot to see her.

* * *

 

_“Someone is here to see you, Lady James,” one of her guards had informed. “It’s Anton Sokolov.”_

_Jessamine raised a brow, tilting her head back in curiosity._

_“Is he alone?” she inquired. Regardless of how well she knew Sokolov, there was no telling what his presence would bring._

_“Yes, he’s walked here all by himself,” the guard chided in somewhat of a mocking tone. It wasn’t exactly easy to make it to her headquarters alone. Especially if you were nothing more than a layman._

_“In that case, show him in and leave us be for a moment, please and thank you,” Jessamine ordered, waving the guard away._

_Soaked steps eventually padded into the room, the door shutting firmly behind him._

_“Long time no see,” was all she said, leaning back in her chair._

_He was water logged, dripping all over the floor. If she looked closer, she would have probably been able to see him shivering. Sokolov still looked the same. Thick beard, squinting, scrutinizing eyes and an ever present frown on his face._

_Jessamine slowly rose from her desk and unlocked one of the chests pushed up against the wall. She had no idea why there were so many linens but she was grateful for it in that instance. The tension hung in the air like smog as she approached him, holding out the off white sheets to him. She could feel his eyes scanning her face. Perhaps he had trouble recognizing her. She had gotten a haircut._

_She had heard the rumors. Some believed that she was a reincarnation of their late Empress. Some even went so far as to believe that she had come back from the dead. What would they have done if they knew they were right? There was no doubt that Sokolov was questioning the rumors himself._

_“Jessami-“ he opened his mouth to say._

_The dark haired woman quickly lifted a hand to stop him._

_“Catherine. For now,” she corrected, whispering the last part as quietly as she could._

_They stood in silence for a few moments as Sokolov wrapped himself in the blanket. The rain pattered on the glass ceiling above them – newly installed. Jessamine couldn’t stand the cold and hated when the rain seeped into the office. She waltzed back to her desk, leaning against it with her palms lying flat on the dark wood. Sokolov followed, standing closer to her now. Jessamine simply pointed her chin towards the two chairs in front of her._

_“The rumors are true then,” Sokolov confirmed as he took a seat._

_Jessamine simply shrugged._

_“They are whatever you want them to be,” she said, knowing he was smart enough to infer the truth. Jessamine usually denied such things but Anton was a very special case. “So, what brings you to my humble abode? It isn’t exactly easy to make it here on foot. You’re lucky that my men didn’t just kill you on sight.”_

_“I come to offer aid,” Sokolov spoke. “I’ve been attending your protests, you know.”_

_“That is very sweet of you, Anton,” she cooed, “And here I was, under the impression that the Abbey had you wrapped around their finger.”_

_“I can provide elixir shipments, weaponry, anything you need,” he said, a sense of urgency evident in his voice._

_“A very enticing offer,” Jessamine drawled. “But what do you want in exchange? You never were a completely selfless man, after all.”_

_She knew him all too well, having grown up in his presence._

_“Aside from the demolition of the god forsaken Abbey… Safety, I suppose,” Sokolov said._

_Jessamine almost snorted._

_“I suppose I could work with this,” she pondered. “You have yourself a deal, Anton. Though don’t count on the attacks on your estate stopping any time soon. That would rouse too much suspicion. I’ll make sure nothing… Too important gets damaged – and that no one kills you on your way home.”_

_He had opened his mouth, perhaps to offer his thanks but she cut him off._

_“Now, I trust you,” she drawled, “On the basis that I have known you for my entire life. That being said, my trust is extremely hard to gain these days, so you could count yourself as blessed.”_

_She shot him a threatening glare._

_“And you should probably think twice before trying to double cross me.”_

_“I’ll keep that in mind,” the man conceded, eyes burning into the wood._

_Why couldn’t he look at her? Was he afraid? He should have been. Jessamine wouldn’t hesitate to have him killed the moment she caught wind of insubordination. She wouldn’t let there be any loose chains, no, not this time. Trust had ruined her. She was different now; colder now. Her words could be used like honey to gather the masses but like acid to destroy those who opposed her._

_“Perfect. Now, you should probably get going before the Abbey starts to worry about you. It’s a long walk home,” Jessamine remarked, lips twitching into a smirk. “We’ll be in touch.”_

_The shivering Sokolov nodded slowly as he got up from his chair. He could keep the blanket, though it wouldn’t do him any good once he got outside. The old floor whined in protest as she walked him to the door._

_“Oh, and Anton, if you’re ever looking to get some more exercise,” she said, hovering behind him. “Come over and we’ll have lunch.”_

* * *

 

 

He proved a worthy ally. Her headquarters had been outfitted with the latest Sokolov technology under the guise of being stolen during one of the many raids against the Abbey. Every combative member of the Tide was armed with pistols and had access to mines of all capacities.

However, Sokolov was nothing close to Jessamine’s most prized comrade. He was someone who she thought she would never see again. The entirety of Dunwall feared him, even the members of the Tide who fought by his side. He was someone that left an ocean of blood in his wake. Someone who’s mere shadow was enough to cause guards to drop their swords and run.

And he had been standing behind her all this time.

“Daud.”

“Jessamine.”

He was the only one allowed to use her real name. She supposed he had earned that right.

“Anything interesting to report?” she inquired, turning to face him.

Shadows danced on his marred face, his empty eyes focused entirely on her. The eyes of a killer. When they had first _formally_ met, he had the same gaze. There was nothing left in him. Guilt had eaten it away like the plague. So much so that it had whittled away any semblance of humanity he had left. He was like a rabid dog now, willing to hack and slash away at anything that came near him.

“We found him.”

Jessamine’s brows shot up as she her spine straightened out. She wasn’t sure if she was prepared for this.

“Bring him here,” she commanded, trying her best not to sound shaken, though Daud could probably tell. He could smell fear.

In a blink of an eye, he was gone, leaving wisps of the Void in the air where he once stood. Their interactions often went as such. There was not much to say between them. Though, he did _sometimes_ prove himself to be a reliable advisor. His years of creeping about in the shadows of Dunwall proved useful for staging attacks and riots. He knew some people better than they knew themselves. He and his Whalers usually worked in the background, understanding that this was a war between the Abbey and the people, not a crusade to kill every Overseer in the city. They would just be replaced by more. The Abbey needed to be destroyed at the source.

It would have been easy enough to have Daud kill the High Overseer himself, in fact, he had suggested it more than once – craving for the feeling of blood on his hands once again.

 _“I promise I’ll make him suffer,”_ Daud had assured her.

Though the offer was tempting, Jessamine wanted attack and leave a scar, not just cut them down like trees.  

While their alliance was strange in itself, their meeting probably even stranger.

* * *

 

_Jessamine had been busy sorting over maps and plans of where she would hold her next gathering. She found herself needing to find bigger spaces as more and more people struggled to shove themselves in the squares where she had originally held them. A few men and woman pattered around her house, also filing through paperwork and muttering amongst themselves._

_She barely heard their bodies graze the floor._

_Her body froze as she felt a wet blade against her neck. Eyes peering down, she watched as the blood of her comrades soaked into her shirt. Despite all of this, she was not afraid._

_“I was wondering when you’d finally show up,” she said, voice taking on a more sultry tone._

_“Who are you?” Daud asked, breath hot against the back of her neck._

_“Who do you think I am?” Jessamine countered._

_She had always known that he was out there – somewhere. The man who killed her. Sometimes, she found herself wondering what he was doing or if he had offed himself once the guilt had gotten the best of him. Now she had her answer. What Jessamine didn’t know, was that he had half gone mad from seeing her face plastered on every building in the city. She wasn’t just spray painted onto walls, now. She was on wanted posters._

_“An impostor,” he hissed._

_“Oh, you wish that, don’t you? That I’m a woman with an incredibly striking appearance to the late Empress?” she mused. “You couldn’t possibly believe that I’m her. Jessamine Kaldwin.”_

_She was anticipating his arrival ever since she caught wind of someone mysteriously killing off members of her militia after attempting to find out her location. Jessamine wondered who squealed. They were probably dead now. Good riddance. They said he was tall and burly, a flash of red and then gone in a flurry of black. It had to be him._

_“I killed her with my own two hands. It’s impossible,” Daud said._

_“For someone who consorted with the Outsider himself, you’re quite the skeptic,” she shot. “I wish you had stopped to have a nice chat the last time you came to do me in.”_

_She felt his hand clench his blade tighter. She could only smirk._

_“That **is** why you’re here, right, Daud? To kill me? Did a rich noble pay you to come here? Or maybe you’re here on your own volition,” Jessamine continued. “Haven’t you done enough?” _

_A growl rumbled from deep in his throat._

_“You started the reaction that blew this city up. Are you really going to kill the only person who can fix it?” she challenged. “Why let the weight of this whole ordeal crush you when you can let me help you bear it?”_

_She knew she was working him like dough. Kneading him in such a way that he couldn’t possibly deny her. Jessamine had plans for him. Sure, she had a sizable military force behind her but they were amateurs. She needed someone like Daud on her side._

_The assassin remained silent, though his grip on her went lax. What was running through his mind now? Was he still skeptical of her identity? Or was that just something he told himself to try to make himself better._

_“Let go of me,” she commanded._

_And so he did._

_She felt his dead eyes on her, trying to work out what she had told him._

_“If it’s atonement you seek, then join me,” Jessamine offered._

_“I don’t want forgiveness,” he growled._

_The former empress raised a brow._

_“Then what is it that you want?”_

_His lips twitched into an almost psychotic smirk._

_“Blood.”_

_Jessamine felt a shiver run down her spine until finally, her lips contorted into a smirk of her own. Slowly, she extended her hand out to him._

_“Consider your wish granted,” she purred._

_The scarred man nodded, gloved hand engulfing hers in a firm shake._

_His fate was sealed._

* * *

 

From assassin to guard dog, Daud had offered more than she had expected. Her operations soon moved to the Flooded District where she took residence in the commerce building, turning his office into her own personal domicile. It was quite a convenient location. Inaccessible by most and well-guarded from any nosy Overseers. Progress had sped up with this new affiliation as well, seeing as they were able to acquire information at a much quicker rate.

The emergence of the familiar dark cloud brought her back to the present. Jessamine had her jaw clenched as she watched two people materialize out of the Void. One was Daud, obviously, but in front of him was another man. He was outfitted in dark cloth, long brown hair framing a black mask. He didn’t even struggle or make a sound as Daud tossed him to her feet.

“Easy now,” Jessamine warned, shooting Daud a small glare as she forced herself to move closer.

She knelt down in front of the man, hands working to gently pull the mask off his face.

“Corvo,” she said, her voice soft for the first time in months. “What happened to you…”

It was rhetorical.

Her fingers ghosted over his skin, finally tipping his chin up to look him in the eyes. She traced the outline of his face, over every angle and indentation that the mask had left on it.

He avoided her gaze.

“Look at me,” she demanded, voice taking on a more commanding tone, now. “Please.”

With some hesitation, Corvo’s eyes met hers.

She tried her best to gather her thoughts, lip quivering ever so slightly. She refused to cry. Not now. Not after all she had been through. Her daughter was dead. _Their_ daughter was dead. A part of her wanted to blame him, to scream and him and bowl him over. He could have saved her. But that was the past. The deed was done. Emily was gone.

Surprisingly, Corvo spoke first.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said, his voice raspy.

Jessamine had not even noticed when Daud made his leave.

She shook her head and finally pulled him close, her entire body racked with sobs. Jessamine clung to him as if he, too, would dematerialize into nothing. She had gone so long without showing weakness. All she cared about was justice. Revenge. She had made it so far without him – without a crutch. But now he was here and she was once again, at peace.

“We’re going to fix things,” Jessamine said, burying her face into the crook of his neck. “We’re going to destroy the Abbey and take back Dunwall.”

She pulled away, wiping away stray tears as she regained her composure.

“What do you say, Corvo?” she asked slowly, “Will you join me?”

The dark haired man said nothing but instead moved from his position on the ground to kneel on one knee in front of her. He held a hand out to her, green eyes glinting with unsaid determination. Jessamine slipped her hand in his as four words tumbled from his lips.

“Long live the Empress.”


End file.
